Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology

by Skye MacKinnon

  As Caleb walked past me to exit the room, he clamped on to my shoulder and squeezed. I resisted the urge to grimace when he shoved his thumb into one of the pressure points. Another warning, like it would do any good. I knew exactly how to play this. I wasn’t backing off, but I wouldn’t take it any further until he was ready. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake as I did with Meredith.

  Isabella shifted on the bed, drawing my full attention as she continued to squirm.

  “Anything I can help you with there, sweet-tea?” I liked my nickname for her. A play on sweetie which I would have loved to call her if I hadn’t been worried that it would scare her off. Besides, using tea seemed to fit her.

  “Um.” Her cheeks pinked again. A sight I’d never grow old of seeing. “I need to use the washroom, but…” Her voice trailed away and for a second I stood there not understanding the problem.

  “Oh yeah. Shit. Um.” Now my face matched hers as I stepped deeper into the room until I stood next to the bed. I bent over to lift her up as I said, “Here, I’ll carry you—”

  She screeched and clutched the blanket to her chest, stopping my movements before my hands could slip under the blanket.

  “Um, maybe I could borrow a shirt first? Or you could hand me mine?”

  The urge to hit my head with my own hand had never been stronger. How could I have forgotten that she was almost naked under the sheet? Instead, I winked at her as I stood upright. “Sure thing.” I reached over my head with one arm and pulled off the t-shirt I wore, handing it to her. “Will this do?”

  The redness deepened as she averted her gaze, but I caught her sneaking glances at my chest. The wild stallion inside me bucked and strutted his stuff, pleased that his mare was checking him out.

  While I would have asked her to raise both her hands, I knew that she wouldn’t want to let go of the sheet she clutched to her chest. Playing the gentleman that my mother taught me to be, I turned around. “Just let me know when you have it on.” With discrete movements, I adjusted myself in my pants, knowing the sight of seeing her wear my shirt would push me closer to the edge. Something like a teenage boy with his first porn magazine.

  “I’m done.”

  I turned around, and holy shit, I kid you not, all my long dormant caveman tendencies sprang into life. A rumble started in my chest, drawing a raised eyebrow and smothered laughter from the woman—my woman—in front of me. And I. Didn’t. Care.

  She could laugh at me all she wanted, but she was wearing my shirt.

  And she looked hot in it.

  I didn’t know if I wanted her to wear it all the time or if I wanted to rip it off her. But if I did that, I’d give her a long-lasting mark to show all the men around town that I was the lucky bastard who’d claimed her. See… caveman.

  Without wasting a moment, I slipped one hand under her legs and another around her back, lifting her bridal style into my arms. If I didn’t get her out of this room soon, we’d never leave. My control frayed faster with each beat of my heart.

  The moment I stepped out of the room I ran smack dab into a fully dressed Caleb.

  “What?” He glanced down at Isabella. The corners of his lips tightened. But from the way he shifted his stance, I knew the sight of her wearing my shirt made him as hard as me.

  Silence stretched on between us. Even Isabella stopped squirming, too busy doing her best to hide her disappointment that Caleb wore a dress shirt all buttoned up. She may have been trying to hide her attraction to us, but I knew it was there. Over the years I’d developed the need to pay close attention to the body language of the people around me. As a young instructor, one student caught me unaware, not having been overly flirtatious in her actions until she came into my office with a question. Thankfully, Caleb arrived after having written an exam to pick me up for a late lunch before anything serious could happen. But I never forgot that lesson.

  “Oh. I’m so sorry, dove. I completely forgot about the fact that you’d need the bathroom,” Caleb finally said as he backed up, giving me room to carry her to the bathroom.

  As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me, he cornered me.

  “She’s too young.”

  “Nope.”

  “She’s not ready for us.”

  “Sure she is.”

  “Ugh.” He tipped his head against the wall.

  “Relax.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, revisiting the urge to return his earlier squeeze. “Go to work. Think it over. But I’m telling you, she’s worth it.”

  His head dropped to his chest. “I know. And that’s what I’m worried about.”

  Chapter 6

  Caleb

  I found my mind wandering throughout the morning whenever I wasn’t with a patient. And sometimes even when I was with one. Something I hadn’t done since my days of residency when I’d been so tired that my mind would shoot off, focusing on tangents related to what happened in front of me. But unlike during my residency, today’s thoughts all focused on one thing. Or should I say one person.

  Isabella.

  Ben’s parting words dug in deep, putting up a fight against every argument. Yes, she was young… but accomplished, focused, and studious. Qualities that most likely made her more mature than her contemporaries. Even how she handled her injury, and the way it interfered with what work she needed to accomplish didn’t match what I’d seen in other patients of her age. She met her fate with resignation, grit, and determination. Sure, she worried about her business and the work still required, but she was willing to take the day to rest, knowing that if she pushed herself, she’d pay longer for it.

  As for being ready… I couldn’t deny her attraction to Ben… and hopefully myself. But again that wasn’t anything out of the norm. Ben had young women falling at his feet all the time. Something about the taboo of the hot young professor. Yet none of those women were looking for anything long term. They all wanted the quick roll in the hay, the hot professor box checked off—and possibly the doctor for threesome box as well—in their sexcapades bingo card. Could she be different?

  I had to believe she was. So far she hadn’t done any overt flirting. Although the pain and the injury could have interfered with that part of her personality. Yet, I didn’t think so. Her bashful reactions to Ben’s comments made it seem like she wasn’t used to it, wasn’t comfortable with it, even if she didn’t shy away. That in itself made her different. Made her the wholesome girl next door.

  “You hoo,” my mother called as she knocked on the door to my office before pushing it open all the way. “How’s my son doing today?”

  I pushed up from my desk so that I could give her a hug and kiss on the cheek. Although I shared a practice with my father and a few other doctors to pool costs, with my father taking a few days off, I hadn’t expected to see my mother here today. Not that she came every day, but she usually came at least once a week to meet my father for lunch. They said it was a way to keep their marriage strong and to ensure at least one meal together, uninterrupted by children.

  “I’m doing fine, Mom.” I released her from the hug and sat back down at my desk. “So, what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “What? Can’t I stop in and see my own son?” The glib answer rolled from her tongue, but the fact that she wouldn’t meet my eye set off all my senses.

  “Of course you can, but you usually don’t.” I raised an eyebrow. “At least not unless you have an ulterior motive.”

  She laughed. “My son knows me too well.”

  I steepled my fingers together as my elbows rested on the desk and waited for her to spill. While my mother didn’t like to gossip per say, she loved to hear all the news but only told people what she knew in response to direct questions or comments. Unless the person needed help. Then she was one of the first people on the phone arranging for whatever they needed. The trick to not spilling your own news was to wait her out, giving her enough time for her news to drive her crazy.

  Her shoulders slumped.
“Fine. You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”

  “I guess I am, considering the fact I don’t know what you are wanting.”

  “Really?” She sat on the corner of my desk. My mother may have been in her late fifties, but the energy that radiated off her matched that of a woman in her thirties. Her trademarked long silver-haired ponytail swung over her shoulder. Only on special occasions had I ever seen her hair in a different style. “You can’t possibly think of why I’d want to see my son?”

  “Nope.” Although from the way she was looking at me, like all her prayers had been answered, a sneaking suspicion entered my mind.

  “Not even about a sweet young woman who spent the night at your place?”

  I wanted to groan. How could she already know about Isabella? But before my mother heard wedding bells—something that I may have already been too late to prevent—I needed to set her straight. “It’s not like you think, mom. Ben and I were walking by her store when she injured her ankle. After ensuring it wasn’t broken, only a bad sprain and bruising, we decided to bring her back to our place since there was no way she could manage the stairs at hers.”

  While I spoke, my mother’s face lost its eagerness as it transformed to one of sympathy and concern. “Oh that poor woman. And so close to the opening of her shop. Well, I’ll have to arrange some help for her. I’m sure Kaitlyn could spare a few hours. Susie as well before her shifts at the Soaring Eagle.” As my mother continued to plan her attack to ensure Isabella was well taken care of, I relaxed. Nothing like a good cause to make my mother forget all her thoughts about wedding bells.

  A small smile played at the edges of my lips. Isabella wouldn’t know what hit her. When Ben and I spoke about how the town would help, I could see that she didn’t believe us. That help like that wasn’t something she was familiar with. It made me wonder what type of family life she’d led before moving here. Most newcomers came to Voyageur Bay because they already had some deep connection—family, job—or were wanting a change of pace—usually retirees. Not too many people just showed up, alone, and opened a new business. Ben had mentioned that he heard she’d spent a summer here, but that didn’t explain why she chose to move here. There had to be a story behind it, but I wouldn’t push for it. She’d tell me when she was ready.

  “And don’t think that you’ve gotten me off your case by giving me a project, young man.” My mom poked my chest with her index finger. “I’ve been on to your tactic since you were a young boy. Now tell me all about Isabella. I’ve never known you or Ben to bring someone home like this before.”

  Now my mother was the last person I wanted to talk this over with, but I needed to talk. Going around in circles in my brain wasn’t giving me the answers I needed, and Ben was obviously biased.

  So I told her.

  It didn’t take long, and she stayed quiet the whole time, letting me talk about my fears about Isabella’s age.

  When I finished, she patted my hand. “Now I can’t make the decision for you. Nor can I say whether or not she’s worth the chance since I haven’t met her yet. But ask yourself this… ignoring her age, in twenty years from now, will you regret not giving it a shot?”

  She leaned over and gave me another kiss to my cheek. “Well, that’s enough motherly advice for now. I’m off to gather the troops. We’ll meet at the tea shop at nine, ready to work.” And with that pronouncement, she jumped off my desk and marched out of my office without a backwards glance.

  But in her wake, she left me with a doozy of a question. If I didn’t give myself a shot with Isabella would I regret it for the rest of my life?

  Isabella

  Once I’d finished using the toilet and giving myself a bird bath at the sink, the nerves settled in. All my mental to do checklists swirled around me along with the ever-shrinking calendar. No matter how I moved things around, there wasn’t enough time. Even without taking today off, I would have been able to open the tea shop portion, but it wouldn’t have been complete. Not the way it looked in my head, but I’d resigned myself to that. Now I couldn’t see how I could even get it to my modified plans.

  My heart raced. My breaths came in pants. But before a complete panic attack could take hold, I knocked my foot into the sink cabinet. The shot of pain snapped me out of it, making me draw in a deep lungful of air. The pain also served as another reminder about how I wouldn’t accomplish anything even if I were at my place. Going up and down the stairs would have killed me. And with the crutches, I wouldn’t be able to carry most of the items that needed to be put away.

  A knock sounded on the door before I heard Ben’s voice, “Everything okay in there?”

  I turned off the running water and grabbed a towel. “I’m good. Almost all done.”

  I hobbled over to the door, using the counter as a support for my awkward jumps. The door pushed open before I reached it and Ben stuck his head through the opening. “Safe?”

  The chuckle rose unbidden through my chest. What he said wasn’t funny, but the idea of this sexy, older man, who oozed sensuality, holding back and acting bashful lifted any remaining doubts about his intentions. If he wanted a quick bedroom romp, I’d probably jump at the chance, but this seemed more.

  I was happy with more.

  That wasn’t to say that I didn’t want to get my tea bag wet with a long steep in boiling water. And he was definitely boiling.

  But savouring it was also a great idea.

  So would two bagging it. I liked my tea hot and strong. One bag didn’t always do it for me. And Caleb, well… I wouldn’t turn him down if he offered either.

  The door pushed open the rest of the way, revealing Ben who stood with his hand over his eyes. “You didn’t answer if it was safe.” The pout in his voice and the puppy dog lip he gave had me struggling to keep a straight face. It was a good thing he couldn’t see me because that look would get him anything he wanted faster than solid honey would melt in hot tea.

  “I’m good. You can take your hand down now.”

  He widened his fingers and peeked through. The smirk on his face gave him a mischievous look. “I’d say you’re better than good.”

  And without another word he swept me off my feet, carrying me through the house before he deposited me on the couch in front of a large tv. The kind you expected to find in the living room of two bachelors.

  For the rest of the day, Ben waited on me hand and foot. Ice packs, medication, drinks, food, it was all brought to me at regular intervals. When a nervous twitch made my fingers drum against the couch, he even brought me a laptop so that I could access all my business files through the cloud storage. Updating my work chart, going over my numbers, planning for eventual tea service and bakery items helped to ease the tension in my muscles about missing the day.

  When he wasn’t catering to my needs, Ben worked on his own computer or talked on his cell phone. Although those conversations occurred while he was in the far side of his kitchen so all I heard was the murmuring of his voice. A couple times I wondered if he were speaking to a girlfriend, but as his flirtations never went further than some spicy banter, I didn’t ask.

  The sound of the door to the garage opening and closing brought a smile to my face. As much as I enjoyed my day with Ben, explaining to him my business plan when he asked, and discussing an opportunity to potentially teach a course at the community college, I’d missed Caleb. His quiet, steadiness, and the way he commiserated with me the previous evening over Ben’s behaviour made me feel safer.

  “Was someone good today?” Caleb asked as he walked into the room. “Because I brought home some goodies from Buns by the Bay.”

  “I was.” My mouth watered at the sight of the box. Their treats had been my guilty pleasure and reward. I already had them on my to do list because I wanted to see if they could supply some desserts when I started the tea service. Scones, crumpets, and cinnamon rolls, I could bake like a pro, having learned from my Nana’s chef. Even my breads turned out tasty, if not a little lopside
d. But somehow my sweets always failed. They either tasted a little off or looked like something no one wanted to eat. Not even my cakes were spared. But they could be covered in enough store-bought icing to be edible.

  He glanced over to Ben as if to ask for confirmation. I turned to glare at Ben, telling him with my mind all the things I’d do to him if he lied. He must have understood my look since he laughed at me. “She was very well behaved. And not only because she’s glaring at me. She sat on the couch, kept her foot up, and even did some paperwork for her shop.”

  Caleb gave Ben a nod and then turned back to face me. A smirk, one that had me clenching my legs together tighter than some people squeezed their tea bags, played on his face. He stalked towards me, and suddenly I felt like prey. But a good type.

  A glance over his shoulder revealed Ben following him.

  My heart thumped.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He leaned over me, hands punched into the couch on either side of my head…

  And then his lips were on mine. Hard. Possessive. Stealing my very breath. Their slide over my own heated my blood past boiling.

  Shocks and sparks tingled along my skin even though the lips were the only place we touched. I melted into him. Into the pent-up desire I could feel behind his lips. Arching my back, my breasts brushed my chest against his. A small moan escaped around our lips as my eyes closed.

  Every thought wiped from my mind, leaving me nothing but feelings. Maybe that was why I swore I could feel someone staring at me. My eyes popped open and met the intense dark brown, nearly black colour of Ben’s eyes. His unwavering gaze pierced my skin like the water going through a tea bag. The look heated me further, but at the same time had all my muscles tensing. What in the world was I doing? Kissing one man in front of another who occupied equal position in my dreams?